I set up a little stitching situation in an old pencil case. It’s a little janky because one of the hinges is messed up but it serves its purpose alright.
I also, I cleared off my desk and gave myself a bit of mental space…
I am pondering if I want to do a very tame version of national novel writing month. It feels insane to even type that but also thrilling. I am wondering where I will get the time but I think it’s possible (with an abbreviated goal).
That said, I am wondering if I should prep more. I have a story that I have been loosely working on for years…and it sounds so good in my head but the page…not so much. It’s so hard to let go of stories.
I discovered that I like writing again but if I apply any kind of pressure ….I just feel too anxious about it…it’s the same with art. At first, I thought I didn’t believe in myself but it’s not the case…I just don’t like the pressure.
As I think about it…i would also like to write some poems. Maybe a chapbook. So many possibilities.
Being mindful in our creative practice, by actively choosing to prioritize the space and time for ourselves, brings attention to our internal core. Focusing on even just one thing makes us slow down a little from the rush of everyday life. Mindful making is about more than simply stitching or knitting something beautiful it is about learning how to bring that focus or feel of attention to something (the stitch work, the pattern) in our daily lives. ~ Ellie Beck
I have been gathering inspiration from the corners (and center) of my life. Looking through old photos and works. I want to know what makes me happy about my work and my practice. How can I allow it to shift to a more sustainable pace?
Slowing down my creative practice feels weird because I’ve always worked like a buzzing bee. I enjoy buzzing about but doing that 365 is not always good for me. I know that a lot of my production anxiety came from trying to bridge the gap between my abilities and my mind…and some came from the need to self soothe through art. These are beautiful reasons fro making art. They definitely kept me focus but like I said my idea of my practice has expanded and morphed some.
I want to be more thoughtful and personal in my work. I do think scrapbooking is a way of doing that…so is creative journaling but those things are too personal for the internet. Art journaling (for me) tends to be less personal but very intimate, if that make sense. And maybe that means less sharing (of art) on the internets to allow my work to go where it needs to go. I don’t know. I am just typing.
This morning I did some stitching. Stitching is slow for me. It might be the slowest hobby that I have. It reminds me that things take time. Maybe this idea of things taking time has found its way into my other art practices. I want to take my time. I don’t want to rush to create for pictures or likes. That’s not sustainable or good.
I want to be mindful of how I spend my time and energy. I want to give myself to my own life (and communities)and not building other peoples empires or idolizing other people’s lives. But it’s so hard. Or maybe it just feels hard. It’s a complicated pickle we humans are in.
I don’t think we have to figure it out today. But we do each need to figure it out for ourselves…what is important, what are living for and about and giving our days, too and what does a good life really look and feel like(for us)?
This was suppose to be about going slow but it’s all over the place. Meandering, I suppose. Hopefully, not self-indulgent. I don’t want to give the impression I have it all figured out and you should follow me. You absolutely should not follow me…my mind is always changing. I am just asking myself…what matters…right now…I’m this place and time…in life…in creativity…what should my mind be full of?
I am writing this with a face full of sunshine. it has been an early morning. I actually went to bed at a decent time and woke up with the sunrise and had some dandy blend and a apple. I did some meditation and a bit of sketching. then started listening to a podcast and stitching.
If you know anything about me. you know that my grandma was a great sewer. she got her first sewing machine through a readers digest contest but she was also a prolific hand-sewer.
sewing reminds me of her.
her taking her huge glasses out and asking me to help her thread a needle when she was older. her collection of fabric. her hexagon quilt. her taking in all my clothes because I was so teeny back then.
summer reminds of going down to the creek and fishing and berry picking, peaches and wild grapes.
I feel lonesome for my grandmas garden and her famous greens.
they tore down that old house we lived in
when I saw the spot where it once stood
surrounded by two cedar of Lebanons and circled by pines
my heart hurt just a bit
but I felt my souls sigh too.
so many memories made and invaded in that little house.
it broke us
and gave us life in the same breath.
life is complicated like that.
I remember the sky swimming in blue and kissing the top
of the trees that were left.
and the sun was shining, too.